


Over the Wall

by makingitwork



Series: Bughead Prompts [16]
Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: 1980s AU, AU, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, bughead - Freeform, more frenemies to lovers, over the garden wall - Freeform, over the garden wall au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 11:48:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15290877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makingitwork/pseuds/makingitwork
Summary: The Over the Garden Wall AU nobody asked for.





	Over the Wall

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoy!

The woods and the path don't seem to make any sense before them. It twists and winds in ways that are nonsensical and though it looks completely normal; it's definitely not. Every crook in every tree and the subtle shape of every branch seems to make a face crying in despair. The leaves rustle blackly in a non-existent breeze and the patches of sky they catch through the different areas of thinning foliage don't always seem to match with a piece of sky they saw a few moments prior. The canopy also seems to be giving them strange looks back down at them; mirroring their expressions. 

Of course, if they don't focus on the darkness of the abstract path ahead, or the distance of the ever-changing sky, then it's a rather lovely walk through the woods. There's autumn light that dances and follows along their steps, so that even if they don't know where they're going, they're always framed in what appears to be late afternoon-fall sunlight. The path beneath them is sandy dirt and little bits of powdered twig float up with every step they take; hovering around their ankles before settling back down. The path is also obscenely well kept; though leaves are no doubt twirling off trees, broken dancers, crumbling into fragments: the path is clear and only the grass on either side is littered with the stuff. The foliage says it should be otherwise. 

Betty tugs her tassled brown waistcoat tighter around her, and her suede boots bring up another burst of powder as she snuggles into her sister's shadow. "How long have we been walking, Poll?" 

Polly shakes her head, bottom lip caught between her teeth. There are already grooves worked into it. Their mom says it's a nervous tick. Betty likes to dig her nails into the soft part of her palm. "I'm not sure. My watch stopped working and I'm not sure taking directions from that talking robin was the smartest thing we ever did." She managed a shaky smile, and Betty echoes it as the same thought crosses their minds in perfect sibling synchronicity. "If only mom could see us now." She laughs, and Betty giggles; high and a little hysterical. 

But the thought brings with it melancholy all of its own. Mom. Would they ever see her again? Or dad? Or their bedrooms? What about their bunny: Jasper? They'd only gotten him last week. 

Betty's left stranded for a moment when Polly untethers herself and marches forward; eyes intent and bright. Her nurse's dress is stained here and there with mud and...water? Betty isn't sure, it's definitely murky, but her long blonde hair is perfectly untouched and looks the way it did the second it had been finished. Moussed and sprayed and perfect. Betty rushes to catch up, fingers inching towards the toy gun settled in her belt; maybe a manic stranger won't know the difference between a real gun or a toy. Nothing much else seems to make sense here. When she does, Polly's standing just off the path, hands parting two large shrubs and Betty looks through the gap beside her and pauses.

It's a...a cafe.

A cafe? 

A french looking cafe, that wouldn't look out of place on the corner of a high-class street. The clearing is large enough only for the cafe, and it's an early morning sun that's shining onto it. There are a few seats outside; empty, and cultivated flowers in high vases for decoration. They can even smell the food being prepared. Betty can't remember the last time she ate. The cafe itself has rose walls and huge glass windows that reflect the greenery all around them. Betty listens hard; she had hear generic cafe music being played. The clinking of cutlery. "What the hell is this place?" She whispered, and her sister twined their hands together bravely. 

"I don't know. We got lost here for a reason though, Betty." 

Betty isn't so sure about that. But she loves her older sister, and if Polly believes that with all her heart then the least Betty can do is respect it. She nods, and they march into the clearing. The grass is all trimmed short and neat, and there's a pebbled path straight to the door where a huge sign in lovely cursive reads  _Open!_ in black ink. They both take a breath and Polly pushes open the door. An ornate little bell rings to signal their entrance, and the smell of fine cuisine and sweet caffeine enters their nostrils. There's a...giant fox wearing clothes serving drinks and wiping down tables, and instead of feeling petrified Betty's just really confused. "Maybe we're on drugs?" She whispers to Polly, who's staring at the fox. "Maybe we were slipped hallucinogens? Mom read about it happening in the paper once-"

"Table for two?" The fox says with a smile, and Betty stares at its mouth hard; trying to figure out how the hell it's actually shaping the words into such a sweet voice. "Is by the window okay, darlings?" 

Polly jumps out of it first, and nods, and the two of them are taken to a table and left with two menus. 

It's so absurdly normal that Betty instinctively finds herself browsing the coffees before she slams the menu down and takes a look around. There's only two other customers; blissfully human and not anthropomorphic animals, chatting in what sounds like english at a table in the middle. Polly's noticed them too and the sisters stare. One's very, very pale, with striking red hair and green eyes. He's all smooth skin, and an open collared white dress shirt, as he sips whatever's in his neat little cup. His friend has dark blue hair, and is polishing off a large slice of cheesecake. He's wearing the exact same outfit; white, open collared dress shirt and beige pants. They look about their age- that is, around seventeen, and Betty, for the umpteenth time, tries to wake herself up from whatever type of dream this must be.

"Should we go and talk to them?" Polly whispers, lifting up her menu to shield her mouth in case anyone's attempting to read her lips. Betty glances at the waitress- the fox- who's humming a tune to herself and polishing wine glasses, and then over to the guys who have barely noticed them. 

"I don't know." She confesses "maybe they're lost just like us?" 

They don't  _look_ lost. They look perfectly at ease. Laughing and adding more sugar to their drinks as if it's the most normal thing in the world to be served by life size foxes who wear clothes and can comprehend english and polite society. "The guy with red hair is kind of stunning," her sister confesses, and Betty's jaw drops. She knows that tone. Her sister thinks he's  _hot._

"How can you even be thinking about that at a time like this?" She hisses in shock, and Polly shrugs, her mouth in a contrite, shy line, but her eyes staring on unabashedly. "Polly! This is not some meet-cute, this is insane! Look at the waitress!" 

Polly nods, the tresses of her hair falling into her cheeks and she draws in a deep breath. "You're right, Betty. Let's go." The two of them stand up, green Cooper eyes determined and they walk up to the table. The two guys look up at them and Betty stumbles a little. The dark haired one, with cake stuck to his chin, is kind of...absurdly attractive. She quells the thought shamefully. What a hypocrite she can be. "I'm Polly and this is my sister Betty. We're lost?" 

The red haired boy laughs, and he has a very, very low voice. "Polly and Betty. That's charming. Isn't that charming, Forsythe?" 

The dark haired one wipes his chin with a napkin, and nods; extending his hand. "Extremely charming. As he said, I'm Forsythe, and this is Jason." Polly shakes his hand, and then shakes Jason's, and then Betty's giving her clammy hand to Forsythe's cool, dry one and she jams it back into her waistcoat pocket quickly. It's then she realises that she's still dressed as a cowgirl. She stares down at herself in dismay and Forsythe catches her eyes and smiles; gesturing to the chairs of the other empty tables. "Please pull up some seats, maybe we can help. It's not often we get nurses and cowgirls around these parts." 

Betty waits a beat to see if they're joking, because they're not actually a cowgirl and a nurse...but they don't. The guys are staring at them expectantly, with friendly smiles, and of course- why should a cowgirl and a nurse be out of a place in a world where foxes can tend bars? She and her sister pull up two chairs and sit down. Betty doesn't miss the way that Polly scootches her chair further towards Jason, and she sighs; keeping her own eyes resolutely on the frilly white table cloth and not Forsythe's hands. 

He has very nice hands, though, her peripheral supplies unhelpfully.

"So, you're lost how? Did you come through Pottersfield?" Jason asks, and they rush to explain their situation. That they were walking- slipped, and when they awoke they were in these woods. They met a...thing, and got given advice, and had been wandering ever since. After they've finished explaining, finishing each other's sentences and filling in where the other skimmed, the sisters lean back in their seats and let out a wheeze. It's been a long story, and it sounds especially exhausting after they've said it all. It also sounds incredibly absurd. Betty still hasn't ruled out the drugs thing yet. 

Betty watches as Jason and Forsythe exchange heavy looks. They're having a conversation based purely on minute facial expressions and she wonders how well they know each other. She gets a bad feeling when Forsythe winces, and he leans forward; resting his elbow beside his plate. "I'm going to be honest with you," he begins, picking up some icing left on his plate and crunching it satisfyingly against his teeth. "I don't think you belong here. You don't..." he struggles for the word and gives up "...fit. This place is...I don't think it's for you. Jason and I can help though, there's a lake in the pasture. There's a legend that says if you jump into it- you should get home. We're not sure if it's real or not-"

"The lake definitely exists." Jason pipes in, and Forsythe nods.

"Yeah, but as to its effectiveness...that's less conclusive. But I think it's the best shot you've got."

Betty and Polly nod desperately, clutching at the first straws they've been given in their effort to get home. 

 

After packing some cupcakes and pastries into tupperware containers for them, the fox weepily bids them good luck for their journey, and the four of them traipse into the woods together. Polly and Jason have clearly hit it off, and they're talking eagerly as they make their way through pathless wilderness. The guys seemed to know their way though, for they emerge with little trouble onto a smaller clearing where two horses were grazing lazily. They were both white with a few black spots and already saddled up. 

"What do you guys do?" Polly asked, as Jason helped her up onto his horse. She immediately blushed and wrapped her arms around him as he swung his legs over.

"We're salesman." Jason grinned, adjusting the reigns and watching as Forsythe tightened the stirrups. Betty frowned, looking around the rest of the lavender clearing but seeing nothing else. 

"What do you sell?" She asked hesitantly, watching as Forsythe swung himself up. The guys blinked at the question; uncertainty written all over their faces. 

"You know," Jason laughed, a little warily, "I'm not actually sure anymore. Forsythe, what do we sell?" 

"I don't know," was the quiet reply, and then he was offering his hand to Betty. Unlike Polly, she wasn't seated behind the rider, Forsythe settled her into the spot in front and wrapped his arms around her to grab at the reigns. She could feel his heartbeat against her back and tried to calm herself. His breath was hot on her neck, and it tickled; goosebumps spreading down her shoulders. "Best not to think about it. To the pasture," 

They rode for the rest of the day- although if it was truly a day Betty wasn't sure. It got darker, certainly, and the horses got tired and the air grew colder, but she was sure she could glimpse flashes of sunshine through certain leaves. Jason informed them that they were only a few hours away, but it was too dangerous to continue riding in these conditions, so they were going to set up camp for the night. Setting up camp simply meant starting a small fire inside a ring of stones and settling into the long, soft grass around it. Betty's thighs ached from the horse ride as she eased herself to the ground beside Forsythe who was throwing leaves into the fire. Polly and Jason were holding hands, looking thoroughly enamoured with each other and Betty envied her sister- not for the first time, for her easy going nature and confident smile. 

One of the horses came up behind her and slowly folded up its legs. Forsythe rested against him happily and Betty slowly copied his movements. The rise and fall of the horse's breath lulled her a little and she realised just how exhausted she was. She wondered how long she'd actually been awake. It seemed like days. She let her eyes drift shut, and wiggled her toes in the warmth of the fire. 

"You're very beautiful, you know," Forsythe said quietly and Betty's eyes flew over as she turned to look at him. The flames danced across his face and he was staring at her. 

Betty burned, feeling very warm in the cool night air. "Thank you, I- you're- you're attractive too." 

His chuckle was low, not as low as Jason's, but pleasing all the same. "We could- I'm not sure how you'd feel about this, and I don't want to assume the stereotype about cowgirls and boys to be true, but the way I see it," he drew one long leg up to his chest and it seemed to cradle them away from the other two, "you're going to be leaving tomorrow and we both think the other is attractive and..." he tipped his head enticingly "maybe we could...make out for a while?" 

Betty felt about thirteen years old, giggling high pitched in her throat and nodding. "Why the hell not?" She whispered, and he grinned at her, the first proper smile she'd seen from him, and they leaned towards each other; lips meeting. Oddly enough, he tasted of leaves and hints of cream, and sparks frizzled under his hands as they snaked around her waist. Home tomorrow, she thought, snaking her tongue into his mouth, but him tonight. 

 

Blue Monday was playing on the stereo as Betty and Polly sprinted in through the front door. A few of their friends turned to smile at them, before returning back to their conversations. They'd woken up in the grass outside, one moment completely drenched with water from the lake, the next completely dry and face down in the mud. Gone were the rippled faces of Jason and Forsythe, and come were the stars and the pumpkins on Halloween night. 

"Maybe it was a dream," Betty said breathlessly, leaning against the door and whiplashed from the complete normalcy of the scene around them. It was exactly as they had left it when they'd slipped about a week ago. Or maybe it hadn't been a week. The sisters had taken a breather from the party and slipped down a hill, but...everything was the same. There were stoners in the corner passing around a joint, and there were drunk jocks screaming the song at the top of their voices, couples in the corner making out and sofa dancing with a group of cheerleaders. Everyones costumes were the same also, and Ethel waved merrily at Betty in her matching cowgirl outfit. 

Polly was reaching for a beer and twisting the cap off, taking a long swig and then wiping her mouth. It made for a jarring contrast; the muddy nurse outfit, the perfect hair and the alcohol. "I have no idea. I have  _no_ idea." She downed half the bottle, refusing to take a breath as she glugged it down, and then the bottle was slipping from her fingers and she was pointing across the room. Betty whipped around and froze.

Forsythe and Jason. There they were. Standing by the punch bowl and wearing leather jackets with grins on their faces. 

The Cooper girls were running over before they could really think about it, and Polly was pulling Jason into a kiss and Betty only just managed to stop herself from assaulting Forsythe; instead wrapping her arms tight around his neck. Fosythe smelt of punch and his skin was as soft as she remembered.

They both pulled back when they realised the guys weren't responding. 

"Jason," Polly choked, eyes wide and expectant.

He wiped the dazed expression off his face from the kiss and managed to focus on her. "Uh...a-are you a friend of Cheryl's?" 

"I'm  _Polly."_ She said loudly, shaking her head, "we've met!" 

Jason looked completely flummoxed, but was not about to turn her away and instead leaned in for another kiss. "Sure," he shrugged, "you'll have to remind me."

They were kissing, then. 

Betty kept a more careful watch on Forsythe, who was staring at her curiously, as if trying to gauge how drunk she was. But he also kept shooting intrigued glances at Jason and Polly, as if wondering how in hell his friend had scored so quickly. "Forsythe," she began, attempting to explain the situation, and jumping when he reared back. 

"How the hell do you know my name?" He hissed, setting down his plastic cup so hard that the red liquid in it sloshed over the side. "Call me Jughead, like everyone else!" He started waving his hands around, looking around her as if to see who told her. 

It couldn't have been a dream, Betty thought to herself. Not if they knew his name. Not if Jason and Jughead were real. What the hell was that place- what the hell had happened- her brain struggled to rationalise it. It must have been subconscious. They must have fallen and hit their heads and dreamt. They must have seen Jughead and Jason earlier in the night, maybe over heard their names.  _A shared dream?_ The skeptical part of her asked, and Betty could feel a headache coming on. 

"Hey, are you drunk? Do you need me to find your friends?" 

He was so different, she thought, looking up at him. So different yet the same, and he was  _real._ "I'm not drunk," she managed, a few tears falling from her eyes. "I'm worryingly sober, that's the problem." 

Concern was etched into the frown he was wearing, and he looked around for her friends. "Listen, cowgirl, I think maybe someone slipped something into your drink? Punchbowls are to be avoided-"

She caught the supple leather of his jacket in her fists and pulled him to her. Their lips met with a clack of teeth, and he made a sound of surprise into her mouth. It was the same- well, without the finesse, as the one they had shared by the fire, and she hoped desperately that he'd understand. When she pulled away, his pupils were blown wide with lust and he was already leaning in for another kiss. She stopped him with a gentle hand to his chest. 

"Do you know who I am?" She demanded in a breathless voice, and he frowned at her; thoroughly bewildered. 

"Ethel's friend?" He guessed, eyes scanning her face, though they lingered on her lips. "A cowgirl? Polly's friend? Jason's friend? The most beautiful girl at the party?" His voice was whining now, and he was skirting his fingers lightly across her waist. "Come on..." he leaned down to brush his nose against her cheek, and she slumped into him; disappointed. 

"No, no, I..." she pulled away, wiping the few tears away and sniffling. "I want to go home." She could see Polly and Jason making out in the corner with some other couples, and thought of the long walk home. Jughead followed her stare, and nodded. He looked dejected and embarrassed, but still concerned. 

"Do you need me to walk you?" 

It was only a short walk, and she'd made it by herself many times, but the thought of being alone petrified her. She nodded, and the two of them ducked out into the night. The music faded away as they headed down towards the front gate. There were a few strays hanging outside and smoking, but they merely nodded at them. As they started down the street, Betty looked up at the moon and couldn't believe that it was the same night. She turned to look at Jughead, who was walking easily beside her, determinedly avoiding looking at her. She could feel guilt bubbling up inside her, and she fiddled with the string around her neck that was keeping her hat latched behind her ponytail. "I uh...it's been a really weird night,  _Jughead._ I'm sorry about being so..." she waved her free hand through the air, "weird." 

He huffed, jamming his own hands into his pockets and nodding at the pavement. "Halloween always is, I guess." 

Betty chewed on the inside of her mouth, wondering how to ease the tension. Polly would know what to do. 

"I am curious as to how you know my name, though."

She looked up to see him glancing at her out of the side of his eye, and she half smiled. "I don't think you'd believe me if I told you." 

He frowned, but accepted the answer, turning to look up at the moon. It shone like a big, intruding eyeball in the sky and stared right back down at him. She examined the lines of his face, the cut of his jaw and the protruding of his lower lip. She pictured him riding a horse and holding her hand as she stepped into freezing water. "Somethings better remain unknown, I guess," he mumbled eventually, and she wondered what he'd been thinking about, but pondered over his sentence. The Unknown. The woods and the walk and the talking fox- whatever that was, whatever had happened, it was never going to be understood by her. It was the Unknown. She and Polly had visited it, and then they'd come home. It was Halloween after all, wasn't it? The walls between worlds were supposed to be the thinnest. Maybe they've fallen right through. 

"Whether we want them to or not," she agreed aloud, and Jughead shot her another curious look out of the corner of his eye. Then he shook his head and scoffed, blowing up a stray piece of hair out of his forehead. 

"You're a real weirdo, cowgirl." 

She cringed. "Don't call me that." 

His back was up again, and when his words came out they were defensive. "You haven't told me your real name." 

She consciously relaxed her teeth and rubbed at her face. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm Betty. You're Jughead. It's nice to meet you." 

He scrunched his nose, but tipped his head to her and eased up. "I thought you were pretty adamant that we'd met before. That I should know who you were. Come to think of it, Polly sure acted like she knew Jason. But I don't think he'd ever seen her before." His fingers were tapping a rhythm inside his pocket and she could see the movements making lumps in the leather. "It's as if you met our doubles tonight. Or something really messed up happened. Some Halloween hijinks, maybe." 

"You were salesman," Betty stuttered, blinking back tears. "But you weren't selling anything. And we were lost." 

He didn't say anything to that, and she didn't dare break the silence and soon they were at her house. She could see the pumpkins she'd helped her dad carve and the kitchen light was on. It was her house. Her  _home._ She wanted to be inside, she wanted to hug her mom, she wanted to listen to her walkman and do her chemistry homework. She wanted to lie in a bed. 

She pushed open the gate and was about to run up the path when Jughead caught her wrist, and pulled her back to him. 

"Betty," he whispered, tilting his head down so their noses were touching "do you..."

She tugged herself away, shaking her head. "I want to go home, Jughead. This was a mistake, okay? Can we just forget about the kiss?" 

The pain on his face was gone in an instance, and in its place was practised indifference. "Sure. Goodnight." 

Her mom made her hot cocoa and her dad stayed up and watched movies with her- no horrors. Not for tonight. Probably not for a long while. When Polly came home, her neck was red and her lips were flushed and she was already scribbling down songs for the mixtape she was going to make him. Betty went and crawled into bed with her, watching as Polly started drawing cover art. "How have you done that?" She whispered, "he isn't- he's not your Jason, is he?" 

Polly rolled her eyes, pressing a sweet kiss to Betty's forehead. "Of course he is. Besides, I really like him. Salesman of nothing or not." 

Betty frowned into the pillow, wondering why she made everything so hard. 

 

School was obscenely normal the next day. 

Betty put her books into her locker, took the right ones out again, slid them into her bag and walked to classes as if she were in some sort of haze. No more winding woods to nowhere, no more talking foxes, just chemistry at second period. Polly acclimatised back quickly, and she and Jason ate lunch together and were seen leaning against her locker; Polly in her cheerleading uniform and Jason in his sports jersey. Betty stared at them as she walked by, amazed, and bumped right into Jughead. 

Before she could even stutter out an apology, he was neatly side stepping her and out of her way. She watched the place where he had been and marvelled at the fact that she hadn't even known him a day ago, and now here she was with a new enemy. Life certainly was ridiculous. She slid onto her stool and took notes attentively. She liked chemistry, all in all. Chemistry made sense. She liked things that made sense. Veronica, a popular girl from the front row who was new in town, smiled at her a few times and Betty smiled back in quiet surprise. And sure enough, Veronica was waiting for her by the door when the bell rang and stuck her hand out. "Veronica Lodge. I think I spied you leaving the party last night with a certain leather-wearing hipster?" She fell into an easy stride beside Betty and the blonde laughed a little uncomfortably. 

"Yeah, I wasn't feeling well. Great party, though." She nodded. "What did you come as?" 

"Little devil." Veronica sighed wistfully. "I just love Halloween. I take a year at least to prepare for each one. I didn't think a town this small would put a lot into it, but I was pleasantly blown out of the water." She stopped at her locker and Betty hovered uncertainly. "Anyway, I'm bombarding you because we share lots of our classes together, you're a cheerleader and by the looks of it an absolute belle, and I think we could be best friends." She slammed her locker shut to punctuate the statement and Betty blinked in surprise. 

"Oh uh- actually, I don't..." she trailed off, shaking her head with a wry laugh. "You're going to be extremely popular here and I think I could severely damage that reputation." 

Veronica frowned quizzically. "But you're a cheerleader?" 

She rolled her eyes. "My sister's very popular so she pulled a few strings. Consider me the runt of the lot." 

"I will consider you no such thing." The dark haired girl declared. "And who gives two hoots about popularity? I have a best friend vacancy and you are the prime applicant. You come with recommendations and everything." 

"Oh yeah?" The blonde smiled, as the two of them began strolling to Betty's locker. "Who by? Principal Weatherbee?" 

"A lovely curly haired girl named Ethel Muggs. She says that you've been an amazing best friend and she informs me that she will sadly be leaving at the end of the month. So you'll have a vacancy too." 

"She's transferring to SeaSide."

"See? We're soulmates, Betty. Now tell me about that guy you went off with. Your boyfriend or..." She lifted her eyebrows expectantly, and Betty focused on turning the combination for her locker. 

"No, we- we're not. Not even friends." 

"Oh." She wears surprise well, Betty thinks, but she wears most emotions well. Veronica looks like the type of girl who'd be beautiful experiencing anything. "I guess that explains why I haven't seen the two of you together. I figure you'd be the lovey dovey type." 

"I've never had a boyfriend, so I wouldn't know," Betty managed, keeping the maudlin out of her voice. "But you must have. And you definitely want to ask me about the guys here." 

Veronica laughed, nodding. "That I do. I saw a freckled guy out on the field. Come on, B, give me the down low." 

 

Jason and Polly are dating now. Their mom likes him and gives Polly extra peach cobbler to take into school for him, and he walks home with Betty and Polly everyday. Betty watches as they hold hands and she darts inside so they can kiss at the door without feeling awkward. Then Polly comes inside all love struck, with a new mix tape in her hands and she's rushing to listen to it and she's gone from the world for a few hours. She's not sure if Polly's told Jason about their Halloween adventure, but it doesn't really matter either way; they're obviously smitten. 

She's musing this idly in English one day when a collection of books slams down beside her and she looks up hurriedly to see Jughead. He's pointedly looking just to the left of her ear and not at her face. "I'm your partner. I'll do one half of the assignment then you do the second half. Okay?" 

"Okay?" She manages, before he's nodding and disappearing. She sees their names together on the chalk board and feels something in her chest pang. She and Veronica and Ethel hang out most of the time now, and they've visited Veronica's house. It's the largest house on the nicest lane in the neighbourhood and she had arcade games in her basement and they'd played all night. She likes Jason more and more everyday too, he's nice to her and always smiles and because of that, Cheryl, the head cheerleader, is nicer to Betty too. Starts calling her 'cousin' and giving her better positions in their routines. 

"I tell you what I won't miss," Ethel said, eying the pasta on her fork dubiously. "These school meals. Hopefully SeaSide has something actually edible."

Veronica and Betty laughed, eating their own home made lunch before Betty glanced up to see Jughead standing there. He was holding a stack of papers. The three girls immediately stopped laughing and silence fell over the table. "Hey, Jughead," Ethel smiled eventually, her voice friendly and bright.

Jughead nodded at her, and Betty wondered how they knew each other. "Ethel. Veronica. Betty, I have my half of the assignment. You can do yours however you like, but the due date is the 23rd and I'd like the chance to read over it before you submit it, does that sounds fair?" His voice was professional and brusque, and Betty felt an awful feeling stir in the pit of her stomach.

"That's fair." She echoed quietly, and he nodded stiffly at her, leaving the papers on the edge of the table and stalking off.

Ethel choked as soon as he was gone. "What the hell, Betty? Does he hate you?! Jughead's normally so nice!"

Veronica winced. "Nice? He seemed like the Ice Prince."

The curly haired girl shook her hair adamantly. "No way. We have history together and he's such a sweetheart! You know he was the first person who ever stuck up for me here?" She looked over Betty curiously, as if seeing her best friend with a slightly new light. "Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Now the blonde felt immeasurably worse, and she slumped over her slice of peach cobbler. Veronica rubbed her arm reassuringly. "It was a misunderstanding at the Halloween party. I was pretty harsh, I'd had a bad night. I kinda rejected him?" She winced, shaking her head, pony tail tickling her neck. "I think I hurt his feelings."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to date him, that's not your problem. Don't feel bad about your feelings, Betty-"

"It's not that." She insisted, peeling the crust off her slice and breaking it into a smaller piece. "I think I do want to- I don't know." Ethel nudged her under the table with the toe of her shoe and shot her a small smile. 

"He's a good guy, Betty. Give him time, he'll come around and realise how sweet and full of rainbows you really are."

"Too right." Veronica grinned. "Betty doesn't bleed blood, she bleeds _love."_

 

_-Betty._

_Attached you will find the first of the two chapter assignment. I have written from the third perspective of one character, and have thus left it open for you to choose any character you so wish. This will avoid perspective issues due to our writing difference._

_If you find any mistakes, please feel free to edit. And if you do not understand something, you can leave a note in my locker._

_\- Jughead._

Betty plucked the post it note off the stack of papers and leaned back in her bed that evening, examining it. There were far too many full stops for her liking, and she wondered if he was being passive aggressive or if he was just being polite. She didn't know which she hoped. Passive aggressive meant he still cared, whereas politeness meant he didn't. But then, leave a note in his locker? Not talk to him? What did that mean? She wanted to groan, but knew the sound would alert her mom so she just banged her head against her headboard and tried to ignore the sounds of the mattress squeaking in Polly's room. 

She took out her pen and began to look over Jughead's first chapter. 

_Time seemed to be passing differently here. On the west horizon daylight was dropping but in the east; an afternoon drizzle was picking up. Storms and stars, hurricanes and pleasant summer evenings seemed to be coexisting in one moment of time; pushed together unnaturally in the deep forest._

 

Betty stared at the lines; uncomprehendingly. It couldn't be. It couldn't be. 

_The two girls staggered down the path; bewildered and afraid, and the youngest one drew in a deep breath, eager to encourage her sister. "We'll be okay." She insisted determinedly. "We just have to never give up. That's how the beast will get us. But if we stay warm, if we keep hope, we'll be home soon before you know it!" Her heart was sunshine and her smile was as true as she could muster given the situation. Her elder sister managed a weaker one in response, but the cold was etching into her and the Beast was hiding her in shadow._

 

Jughead wrote like a writer. He was talented, he was good. She showed the chapter to her mother, who responded with the enthusiasm of someone who can sense a professional opportunity. She scribbled her contact number onto some paper and pressed it into Betty's hand, eager to meet the young man who showed such raw potential. But what did it all mean? Jughead writing about that? About two sisters lost in a forest that was completely nonsensical? It hadn't matched them exactly but there had been eerie similarities. Jughead's chapter had ended with the two of them discovering a sign on a tree. He had left it open for Betty to keep them heading further into darkness, or find their way out. 

So after cheerleading practise, she tried to find him. The only way, after all, she'd ever know what he knew was by asking him. It occurred to her as she walked through the corridors, backpack over her shoulders, that she had no idea where she would find Jughead. She checked the cafeteria, the library, outside and in as many empty classrooms as she could before frowning. Maybe he wasn't in school today? She headed to the main reception, and asked the reddish man sat by the computer. There surely could be only one student named Forsythe in the system, and the man laughed. 

"Ol' Jughead." He laughed, "he'll hate that you know his real name. Yeah, he's in today, love. He spends all his time down in the music rooms, I'd try there, alright?" 

Betty thanked him, and scurried into the hulls of the school. So Ethel liked him, the receptionist liked him, Jason liked him, and they were all people who seemed like absolute sweethearts. Betty pondered over whether she may just be an awful person, when she skated to a halt. The door to music room three was open, and a beautiful melody was trickling out. "No," Betty muttered to herself, pushing the door open. No way. He couldn't be handsome  _and_ talented  _and_ kind  _and_ musical. But yes, there he was, sitting at the keyboard, a pencil tucked behind his ear and eyes closed as he pushed down chords in an attempt to direct the song. 

She realised with a start that Jason was there too, sat by the drums and playing a gentle, repetitive beat. 

He stopped when he noticed Betty and that made Jughead look up. His face immediately went from relaxed to guarded. "Betty." He nodded. "Was there a problem with the assignment?" 

"Hi, Betty," Jason waved cheerily from behind him, and she gave a small aborted wave back. 

"No, there's no problem, it was amazing, actually-"

"Actually." He snorted, turning back to erase a few notes on the paper and rewrite them. She flushed a little; embarrassed, and Jason shot her a sympathetic look. "Well I'm happy to have exceeded your very low expectations, at least." 

She crossed her arms and shook her head. "Jughead, listen," she began strongly, "it was amazing, alright? I gave it to my mom who works as chief editor for the Riverdale Star and she wanted me to give you her contact details." She placed the piece of paper on the edge of the keyboard, and Jughead eyed it but made no move to take it. "That's not an apology for what I did, that's just recognising your talent. But I would like to say sorry for..." her eyes flickered to Jason, "...the party and everything that happened. If you'll...accept it." 

Jughead sighed, and shook his head with a wry smile. He reached forward to pluck the paper up and pop it into his pockets. "Thanks for this. Apology not accepted." 

"Jug-" Jason frowned, but Jughead cut him off with a wave of his hand. 

"You see, Betty, I know apologies. I've had to give a hell of a lot of them, so I know when someone's being sincere and when someone's lying through their teeth." He stood up, and she was taken aback by the sheer beauty of him. His blue hair, his beanie, his ripped jeans and his oversized jumper, his emerald eyes and his high cheekbones. "So why don't you just tell me what you wanted to ask? Then we can forget about any of this. I won't harbour a grudge, so you won't have to worry about anyone hating you, and we'll be exactly what we were before we ever met. How's that?" 

She wondered whether she was sincere about her apology, and then decided he was right. She felt bad about hurting his feelings, yes. But what she'd actually apologised for was everything that happened at the party- when in reality, she didn't regret those actions. She'd been in a horrible place and had just experienced one of the worst times of her life. She felt due a little slack. She was sorry for hurting him, she wasn't sorry for the way she acted. The thought made her smile a little bit; he was perceptive. "Okay." She nodded, and ignored Jason's cough of surprise. "I want to know how you came up with the idea for the two girls lost in the woods." 

He was clearly thrown by her question, and she wondered what he'd been expecting. "I dreamt it." He said with a frown; honestly. "I dreamt it. It was....ridiculous and absurd but I just dreamt it so I wrote it." He rubbed at his neck. "I'm not even a big fan of dreaming ideas. I prefer working hard and crafting them, but this just came to me. It felt ludicrously real." 

She could feel tears pricking in her eyes again and she shook her head; laughing. And then she ran up to him, and planted an eager, strawberry infused kiss to his lips. He responded immediately, understanding clicking into place as his arms wrapped around her and Jason played an upbeat flourish on the drums. 

 

They got an A in their assignment, and partnered up for every assignment thereafter. Ethel moved away, and Betty missed her fiercely, but she always came down for Halloween. 

Nowhere threw a better party, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> prompt/comment/rave about that pic of Lili doing Cole's makeup, i'm here for it all beauts 
> 
> mwah mwah x


End file.
